Gas • Food • No Lodging

Towering in the distance—too far, given the wind—was a ship. Yes, we were in the middle of a field in Kentucky, miles from navigable water, but before us was a 510-foot-long, 51-foot-high ship—a life-size replica of Noah’s Ark.

If you’ve been to the Grand Canyon’s South Rim, you’ve probably had someone tell you, “Yeah, the North Rim is better.” Like a hipster whose favorite band is someone you’ve never heard of, who drinks an obscure beer you can only get in this one shop in Vermont, he can’t be stopped.

The UFO flew a few hundred feet off the ground, and slowly. Steady and flashing lights made it visible in the night sky, and it made a rumbling sound, almost like jet engines. It approached my car, swung around, and flew back the way it had come, in no particular hurry. Then it was gone. The Extraterrestrial Highway lived up to its billing.

So, there I was at the Rio, when I began seeing people walking around in Starfleet uniforms. At first, it’s like, that’s weird. But when I saw a few more I suspected the Star Trek convention must be in town.